AN: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 10: Control

Harry crawled on his stomach as he moved up to where Sirius lay. The rough tile of the roof they hid on moved under his weight. He froze as the crisp crack of tile shattered the silent night. Sirius' wand flicked his way. Harry held his breath as his godfather's eyes moved back and forth over the spot he lay hidden. "Harry, you lost the element of surprise," he said.

Staying still and quiet, Harry waited. Sirius waved his wand and muttered something. "Good try. Homenum Revelio tells me you're here. Good try. Get up here, Harry."

"I didn't expect the tile to break," he muttered as he crawled closer.

"I broke two getting up here," his godfather quietly laughed. "Look over there," he whispered, pointing over the house's ridge.

Harry settled in and tried to figure out what Sirius was trying to show him. Two dark figures with white masks walked up the narrow lane as if they had all the time in the world. They had wands out, and their heads moved from side to side. The Death Eaters were close enough to curse them for the third night in a row.

"How are they tracking us?" he whispered.

Sirius watched the two argue before turning his face toward where Harry lay invisible. "Your Trace," he whispered. "It has to be. Someone from the French Ministry is feeding them information… but, it isn't completely accurate either. They know the general area of where you are but not exactly. We can't Apparate again. I was hoping to throw them off… and I'll need to limit what I use. Only the… quietest spells."

"Vanishing my trunk," Harry whispered as he watched the Death Eaters move off together down a side street.

"It should be any form of magic, but I don't think that's strictly true. There's a lot I'm learning from this. That wand-lighting charm in the last town didn't bring them down on us, but yes… the Vanishing Spell on your trunk did. Come, move slowly. We're going into that house there," Sirius said with a nod toward the second-story window accessible from the roof.

They made their way across the roof of the low barn. He kept looking around and spotted something on a rooftop three houses away. "Stop," he hissed through his teeth and grabbed his godfather's leg. They froze. Harry tracked the movement of the Death Eater as he turned in a circle. A quality of confidence or arrogance made Harry wonder who exactly it was. They were wholly uncaring of drawing attention to themselves.

"Okay," he whispered when the Death Eater Apparated away with a crack that echoed around the street.

"Hadn't heard them arrive," Sirius muttered.

"You said where there is one Death Eater, there are several. That one… didn't care about being seen by the French Aurors," Harry reported.

"Tracks with my theory about some being Imperioused. Come, let's get inside."

They stayed in someone's bedroom until the next night. Sirius took the first watch while Harry slept. It didn't seem like someone was living in the house, but there wasn't any dust on the dresser either.

They slipped out the next night in turns. Sirius scouted the area with Harry's Cloak and found a spot for them to move safely to. When he got back, he had terrible news. "French Aurors are all over the town. It seems that something happened a while ago, and they are not happy."

Harry nodded. "Plan?" he whispered as he looked out the window.

"You know the church near the hill?"

Harry tried to remember. It'd been dark when they made it into town and… procured food for the night. "Northeast, right?" he frowned. Why were they headed back in the same direction they came from? Sirius had them moving in some complex pattern of hopping between cities, towns, and camping in the forest or in a field.

"We need to double back. I chose this town to try to force the Aurors and the Death Eaters into meeting. It seems to have worked a little too well."

Harry grunted and slipped out of the window. He knew Sirius would follow, Disillusioned, once Harry was far enough away not to somehow trigger the Trace. Sirius had taken a surprisingly systematic approach to understanding the Trace and how Harry could be tracked with it. The average response time to most spells cast around Harry was thirty minutes to an hour. Even then, it seemed the Death Eaters only had a general area of where Harry could be. That was a long time for two fugitives.

As Harry slipped down the roof and onto the hood of a truck, he remembered his godfather's plan to ambush the Death Eaters. By using Harry's Trace, he could lure in a few and take them when they weren't looking. There had been several chances to do that, but Harry argued that an ambush would do little. They might take down a few Death Eaters, but to what end? They knew, for sure, that at least fifteen witches and wizards were hunting for them. It might have been more, but each Death Eater had a different styled mask, so it was reasonably easy to identify them.

Harry moved through the lanes, careful to keep his footfalls quiet. Without magic, he was just glad to have his Invisibility Cloak. Several times while they were genuinely running for their lives, he'd regretted not listening to Remus. However, no matter how close the Death Eaters or French Aurors got, Sirius seemed like he had everything under control.

It took him twenty minutes to reach the chapel and crouch down between the old building and a new addition that looked like a place where parishioners could gather after service. He slowly read the hand-made poster about an outreach program. His written French was improving, but he wasn't getting much practice with spoken French.

About ten minutes later, he saw Sirius jog down the lane, wearing a beanie, a maroon jacket, and dark sweatpants. He'd changed clothes to throw off anyone who might have seen him the day before. That was one of Sirius' major rules. Always change how you look when moving from place to place. Harry stepped out from between the building and moved behind his godfather.

-X-X-X-X-

They'd moved northeast on foot, back toward Letricourt. Harry found that he loved the French countryside. He knew that Britain's countryside mainly was farmland, just like France, but for some reason, he found walking or running through the fields or along the lanes in France more beautiful and refreshing. Granted, he hadn't ever explored the British countryside either.

Sirius didn't let their predicament slow down his teaching, something Harry was grateful for. It helped the time pass and keep his mind off the fact that they were being hunted. He spoke quietly as they walked through freshly tilled fields. "Take your time and think through each step when you're evading patrols. Look for patterns in how they are trying to track you," his godfather said as they passed through a gate in the middle of a field.

Harry looked around and cast a wary eye to the sky. "Aren't we a little too visible out here?" he whispered. "Anyone on a broom."

"Will see us, but there are also too many Aurors searching the area too. Any Death Eaters in the sky will be seen too."

Harry felt vulnerable as he closed the gate behind him. "How can you be sure? About the Aurors. Won't they need to sleep sometime?" he whispered.

"We, and by extension our pursuers, have been active during the night," Sirius said as they threaded their way through the farmlands. "We are dictating the pace. That way, if needed, we can move during the day without too much issue. That, and it's harder for both the Aurors and Death Eaters to operate during the day as they are. We, on the other hand, are simply traveling."

Harry frowned. "Wouldn't that leave us vulnerable during the night?"

"Yes, but sleeping in shifts can help with that. Also, there are potions to help with that. I forgot to ask, how are you doing on ingredients? I know you were brewing up a storm before we had to go."

Harry grimaced. "I had to vanish two cauldrons of Wiggenweld. They weren't going to be ready in time. Not the way I was doing them, at any rate. Off the top of my head, I've got a half dozen Wiggenweld bottles and a few vials, a few Dreamless Sleep Potions, and… I think the Blood-Replenishing Potion should still be good from the Third Task. Oh, a Burn-Heal Paste too. Actually, I might have some Wideye Potions," he muttered. "I'd need to check to see if they are still good. The shelf life of those isn't great."

"Quick brewing potions are like that," Sirius commented. "Any idea if you have the ingredients to make a few more Wideye Potions? When we get settled, I'm going to Place Cachée. I need to get a few more Bezants just in case," he muttered.

Harry hadn't been to the French version of Diagon Alley. He knew it was somewhere in Paris, but he had no idea where. Sirius hadn't been too forthcoming about France's different wizarding hamlets and communities. They wanted to stay well away from any witches and wizards if at all possible. "Why?"

They walked for a bit in silence. Harry could see the glow of the town illuminating the dark sky in the distance. "I need to pick up a few things in case things go south. Also… I need to plan out our next few moves. For that, I need information."

Harry pursed his lips. "You've changed the plan of moving toward Dunkirk?" he asked, a little out of breath. While he didn't mind physical exertion, walking so much the last week or more hadn't been what he expected for his summer vacation.

"I've been thinking… we need to come at things differently. We're staying mostly ahead of them… but, not being able to use magic is stretching the limits of what I can accomplish. For that, I need to prepare some things."

Harry grunted. It all came back to the Trace. There was something that was bugging him that he hadn't brought up because he didn't know how to approach the subject. "Sirius," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"There's something else going on, isn't there? We've figured out the response time for the Trace. We're almost to the area you said we could Apparate from safely and get to Britain. Yet… yet, we're moving around and doubling back on towns we've already been to. What's going on?" he asked slowly.

Sirius took a deep breath and stopped. "I was hoping I'd figure out an answer before you realized." He turned around. Harry couldn't see the expression on his godfather's face. "Remus scouted all along the coast." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "Someone has essentially warded the entire coastline. I'm not talking about just the ports, but also well out into the English Channel. He wasn't sure what it was and didn't want to get too close to check it out."

Harry blinked as his brain tried to understand what he was hearing. "You mean to tell me someone… has blocked the entire English Channel with, what, magic? Wouldn't that cause major issues for Muggles?" he spluttered.

"No, I didn't explain it properly. From what I could tell, it was like a wall designed to track incoming and outgoing witches and wizards. Portkeys wouldn't block something like that, but anyone coming over by ferry, as we did, flew over, or I guess swam, would have a rough time getting past the enchantments."

Harry rubbed his forehead. "So… what's the plan? How…" he muttered as he tried to understand the level of sophistication it would take to create a magical working that significant. His brain settled on one possibility because the other was too frightening to contemplate. "The Ministry," he breathed.

"Yes, there's no doubt. It's either by our ministry or the French. My bet… is probably both. I wouldn't be surprised if a similar working was near Britain. They're restricting unregulated and undocumented travel."

"This makes no sense," Harry grumbled. Something Sirius said registered. "You went to check it out?" he asked. "You said, from what you could tell."

"Yeah, the other day, when you slept in. I didn't wake you because I was trying to scout the coast."

Harry grunted. "Okay, how do we defeat something like that?"

"It would be impossible to cover the entire coast on either side of the border. Something like that is probably impossible for even Dumbledore," Sirius breathed. "My bet is that they've blocked the ports. Maybe set minor wards between the ports to get at least some warning if someone crosses."

Harry rubbed his temples. "Okay, how could you even tell it was there? Oh, right, that's simple," he muttered. "How about this? If you scouted the way. I know you could figure out a way through the block or whatever, then you came and got me. We'd have thirty minutes to get past the wards and hopefully to Britain, where you'd just Apparate us to… wherever we're going."

Sirius grunted. "Way too many ifs in that plan. I'd need to get a good look at a map, but our best chance is coming in from the Isles' western side. Too much water might interfere with whatever working they've got going."

Harry stared at his Godfather. "Come in from Ireland or Wales?" he gasped. "We're on the other side of the country for that," he hissed.

"I know. It might be our only option. Getting into Scotland is going to be even harder. The other problem is… if you're on the water, then you'll be visible to anyone on a broom, carpet, or carriage," his godfather sighed. "Don't tell Remus, but I made a mistake."

Harry breathed out. "We both did," he admitted. "I pushed us to come here. It… well, getting away and seeing new things was amazing. But…" he said before trailing off.

"But... we're in a worse spot for it," Sirius agreed. "I'm the adult here and knew the risks. As usual, Remus is a step ahead of us. Come on, we've got a bit further to run."

"Why can't we just Apparate past the barrier?" he asked as he jogged to catch up.

"Your Trace is going to show like a beacon. We need to slip back into Britain as quietly as possible. Neither Ministry can know you have reentered the country."

Harry felt that was a pretty flimsy excuse.

-X-X-X-X-

Harry stayed low and slowly made his way through the tree line across from a large farming compound. He took a deep breath and scanned the opposite tree line on the outer side of a barn. Two figures in cloaks seemed to be checking the ground. It was where Harry had exited the forest ten minutes before.

"I could really use your advice right now," Harry hissed to himself, thinking of his godfather's abrupt departure that morning.

They'd made plans and set a route for Harry to take while Sirius went to Place Cachée to restock their supplies. Harry only had his rucksack with him and fervently wished it had an Extension Charm on it. The little food they had, his spare clothes, some toiletries, and a shovel started to weigh him down while he was running for his life. It felt like the Death Eaters and the French Ministry were working together to capture him and Sirius.

When Sirius led them out of Verdun, heading northeast along the La Meuse, they left behind two bodies of French Wizards. It hadn't been Sirius or Harry that killed them, but Vampires. There'd been some sort of altercation outside a small College campus that turned violent. Harry had seen everything from the window of a second-story building across the street. Churches were Sirius' favorite place to hide out the night in, as they were almost always empty and had limited, if any, security built in. Whatever happened that night kicked up a Doxy nest of trouble.

Sirius was no longer confident in continuing his plan to carefully scout the English Channel. He wanted to be out of France and into either Belgium or Germany. The problem was that someone had set up checkpoints near the borders. Nothing in the Le Chicaneur told them why the borders were being watched so closely. It could have been the presence of the Death Eaters causing trouble or the Vampire attacks, but the French Ministry wasn't talking to the public about it.

Harry continued northeast, wondering why he shouldn't have just stayed put while Sirius went shopping. His calves burned with the strain of the long nights of walking. Thankfully, Sirius had found him a stout pair of boots that fit. His trainers had been trashed trying to cross a creek. As he'd done when he was a Providence, he fell back on his mantra of "just get through it".

Being alone was hard as he had nothing to keep him company besides his dark thoughts. He was the reason they were in trouble, the reason Voldemort's supporters hunted them. His mind kept cycling around their predicament, no matter how much he tried to think of other things. The enjoyment he felt at seeing the French countryside was gone. He wanted nothing more than to sit down with a book in front of a warm fire and read until he slept. His sore legs protested in agreement with sitting down.

Time slipped away as Harry put one foot in front of the other. He checked his map and figured he had another twenty or thirty minutes to Consenvoye. The drop in temperature made his breath mist as he panted. Sirius told him there wasn't a clearly visible chapel, so they'd meet at a monument in the middle of the small town.

The twenty or thirty minutes turned out to be closer to an hour, and full darkness had set in. Harry skirted around a low hedge and peered around a car. He couldn't see much, as there weren't many street lights. What he could see came from windows and front door lamps that lit the street. The gray and white stucco walls of the houses looked eerie in the darkness. He thought he could see a figure standing by a bus stop but wasn't sure.

Careful not to make too much noise, Harry made his way down the side of the street, keeping off the gravel in the grass. It wasn't until he got within fifty feet of the figure that he realized it wasn't Sirius. He made his way toward the monument of a man holding something. There wasn't enough light to make out the writing. He moved toward the glass doors on the right of the two-story building and tried the doors. It opened without a sound. Slipping inside, he made his way to the room Sirius said he'd wait for him in.

"You made it," a voice said when he opened the door.

Harry hung back without entering. It sounded like Sirius, but they'd gone over how to greet each other. He knocked on the wall once, then moved away from the door. His heart beat faster when Sirius didn't knock twice back.

"Oh, right," the voice said from inside the room. A double knock echoed in the hallway.

Relief spread through Harry's chest. "Sirius," he whispered as he entered an office of some sort.

"Harry," Sirius said as he stepped into the low light cast by light outside the windows. "What happened? You were meant to be here almost two hours ago."

"I thought someone picked up my trail. I had to get creative," Harry sighed and put the backpack down.

"No, keep it on. We've got a bus to catch," Sirius ordered.

Harry blinked. "I thought you said taking Muggle transportation was dangerous."

"It is… if you looked like we did," Sirius grinned as he pulled out two small vials from behind his back. "This… will taste terrible going down," he warned.

Harry frowned. They'd talked about using the Pollyjuice Potion but didn't have a way to brew it safely for the month it would take to finish. "You managed to get a bottle?" he asked as he took the vial from his godfather.

"Two. It'll last us until we're past the border. It won't fool whatever enchantments are blocking the Channel, but we can get there easier and come at it from a different angle than they might be expecting."

Harry nodded and looked up to see Sirius' grin. "What about identification?" he asked.

A flicker of something crossed the older wizard's face. "I've got them," he answered.

Harry thought he understood. Sirius had attacked the Muggles they were going to be impersonating. It would ensure he got the hair needed to complete the transformation and ensure it wasn't a random bit of hair picked up. Human-to-animal transformations using a Pollyjuice Potion never went well. "I understand," he said softly.

Sirius looked down at his vial. "I will do anything… absolutely anything to protect you," he finally said. "Your name is William, and mine is Vic. Bottoms up."

-X-X-X-X-

The man outside had been a bus driver, and Sirius had purchased his services for the night. He wasn't pleased when Harry, disguised as a short athletic man with wiry brown hair and dark eyes, and Sirius, disguised as a sallow-skinned youth with pimples, finally met him.

"Vous êtes en retard," he grumped. Harry had to take charge because Sirius got the vials mixed up.

"Désolé," Harry carefully answered.

The man frowned at him. "English?" he spat. "I can tell by your accent. Your French is terrible. Your nephew then, as the man said? I'll need to see some papers."

Harry had everything ready. Piere was an older man who moved like he was younger than he looked. Once everything was sorted out, he led them toward a compact bus with two bench seats in the back.

"Luggage?" the driver asked as he counted the upfront money Sirius had prepared.

"None," Harry answered.

The older man eyed the two. "I won't speculate; it isn't my job. Are you ready? It'll take us most of the night to get to Tierce."

Harry eyed Sirius but his godfather was playing the part of a teenage boy looking bored and staring into space. "We're ready," Harry answered.

Piere told them it would be a six-hour dive at best. They wouldn't be going near Paris, as he'd heard some of the roads were under construction outside the capital city. He tried to stay awake, but Sirius whispered for him to get some sleep. It hadn't taken much for Harry to nod off to the road noise and low music Piere was playing on a cassette player.